Thursday, August 17, 2006

M was on the radio last night. I went along for the ride - quite important, really, given that I drove her there. We had to climb over a homeless gent to get to the side door that provides access to the swanky BBC building in Hull, which also doubles as exclusive residences for rich city dwellers. The homeless gent had taken his boots off for the night and was sound asleep. While M did the radio thing I watched a technical catastrophe unfold before me - some panic over the recording of a sports bulletin that travelled down the line from some other part of the country, only the recording software crashed at precisely the moment it was required. When we came out of the side door, after M had thrilled all with her tales of the forthcoming classic Game Boys and Console Cuties, the homeless gent had been joined by another, equally homeless, gent. I surmised that these two could have been former BBC broadcasters.Listening: The Automatic - Not Accepted Anywhere